Free Stir-Fry by Emma Donoghue

puppy act, I haven’t time to find you a biscuit.”
    Maria busied herself with the ceramic dish, buttering its curves. When she had finished, she wandered over to the steamy window and peered down at the pavement. “Mucky day. Can’t make up its mind whether it’s raining or not. I think I spy our wee Jaelo Submarine hoving round the corner.”
    Ruth came over, wiping her hands on her jeans. “That’ll be her. She looks so harmless from four flights up, doesn’t she? Like a carrot top floating in the gutter.”
    “You can be such a bitch when you try,” said Maria appreciatively.
    “Mostly I don’t try. It’s only fair to leave her something to be better at,” Ruth explained through a fingerful of white sauce. “You want to start breaking the pasta into pieces?”
    A muffled ring from below. “She must have forgotten her key again,” said Maria. “Tell you what, I’ll run down, if you finish the lasagne.”
    They tramped up the stairs arguing at full voice. “Would you believe it,” Maria announced as she slashed through the bead curtain, “this constipated cow had her key all the time.”
    Jael blew a sardonic kiss at the cook and started to tug at the dripping zipper of her leather jacket. “Well I thought it wasprobably at the bottom of my bag, but I was too wet to be bothered rummaging for it. Especially as I knew there’d be a pair of seventeen-year-old legs just longing for some exercise.” She sidestepped a kick from one of the legs and got behind the sofa. “Besides, look what I have here.” She brandished a sodden copy of the
College Echo
like a matador’s red cloth.
    “Did they print it?” demanded Ruth, looking up from the cheese grater.
    “You bet your bottom they did. Listen to this for quality journalism, youngster. Top Profs Feel a Little Fresher.’”
    “Ah, god love us, they couldn’t have called it that.” Ruth ran to grab the newspaper with sticky fingers. After a quick scan of the third page, she aimed a slap at Jael’s ear. “I knew you were lying, fiend.”
    “Let’s see.” Maria pushed between their shoulders.
    “They used the headline I suggested: S TAFF IN S EXUAL H ARASSMENT S CANDAL .”
    Jael sank onto the sofa and put her boots up on the fireguard. “If you ask me, it’s libelous, even with the proper title. You make accusations of gross indecency against ‘a senior lecturer in the Department of Paleography,’” she went on, tugging open the top buttons of her purple silk shirt, “and there are only two of them.”
    “It’s all based on objective research,” said Ruth, scrutinizing each paragraph.
    Jael sniffed the air. “Is there a burning sauce in the house?” Ruth scuttled to the stove. “I love deflating her when she’s on an ego trip,” Jael whispered to Maria, clearing her a narrow place on the sofa.
    “You mean when she’s a brilliant success.”
    “Same difference,” said Jael lazily. “Ah, I suppose she’s better off keeping busy, it distracts her from her loveless life. We spinsters have to use up our energies somehow.”
    Maria was licking the faint buttery taste off her little finger.The fire was dying into grey ash, but she was too deeply tucked into the sofa to move. “Speaking of our loveless lives,” she said, “don’t we eat a shocking amount?”
    Jael’s face was dreamy as she patted the rounded belly of her jeans. “Well personally, I’m eating for two.”
    “You are
not
.” Maria’s voice was not quite sure.
    “I mean me and my ego.”
    Toying with the fringe on the tartan blanket, Maria waited till the shake was gone from her voice. “No, but seriously, about food. I know I pay into the kitty, but you two are always buying extras. I amn’t offering to cough up any more, because I can’t afford to, but I feel a bit mean chomping my way through your sesame rolls and peaches.”
    Jael erupted into laughter. She rested her heavy elbow on Maria’s shoulder and put on her huskiest Hollywood voice. “You can